


Recovery

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: The OC
Genre: Angst, Background Marissa/Ryan, Background Summer/Seth, Best Friends, Catatonia, Community: femslashficlets, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Post-Season/Series 01, Romance, Shower of Angst, TV Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6217936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the boys are gone they finally allow their long-buried feelings to surface.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Written for femslashficlets for prompt #049 TV Tropes. This is for the trope ’Shower of Angst.’ 
> 
> Post-Season 1.

 

Summer finds her sitting on the tile floor in the shower, summer dress still on and soaked through, arms wrapped around her knees and head bent low, like she doesn’t even know where she is. She gets the appeal of showers as being a convenient and well-hidden place to hide, knows that Marissa’s found herself here because of Ryan leaving, but she still thinks about reminding Marissa that Seth left her all alone too, without even saying goodbye or mentioning just where the hell he was going. Maybe Summer can deal with that anger and frustration and misery better, compartmentalize it for another time; whereas, Marissa’s never been good for dealing with anything in a relatively “normal” way.

But does she say it out loud? No. Because she’s her friend, the _best_ friend Coop will ever have.

They’ve been friends for as long as Summer can remember, even before that in the way that Summer can’t even remember them actually meeting, maybe when they were too young to know what the hell was going on. The thing is… there were always words but there never had to be. Sure, they’ve had their ups and downs, but things could never tear them apart because they _always_ got each other. Silences weren’t awkward, and neither of them had to grasp to put something that could only be felt into words. Summer knew Marissa and Marissa knew Summer, simple as that.

And she knows that Marissa is completely and irrevocably wrecked… because _she_ is too.

“Coop…,” she leans down and puts her hands on Marissa’s shoulders. Summer notices that the water’s already gone cold long before she runs her fingers through Marissa’s tangled hair, trying to pry her away from the edge of her sanity gradually. She did a quick survey of the bathroom before she went into the shower to be with Marissa and noticed that there were no bottles - _thank god_ \- of alcohol or pills. Luckily, Coop hadn’t caved… yet.

Summer moves to say something else before remembering that it was never words between them and it doesn’t need to be now. She doesn’t turn the water off because she’s worried about startling Marissa too much, but her hands frame her best friend’s face and she holds her motionless, horrifyingly empty gaze. Summer will hold her here forever if that’s what it’ll take.

They still have each other, long before they had those boys, and it needs to mean _something_ or Summer will break too.

After twenty minutes or so, Summer’s knees aching and her hair drenched and heavy on her shoulders, Marissa moans lightly and blinks, swaying in disorientation and lips moving slightly before forming a single syllable. “Sum…?”

Summer lets out the breath she’d been holding for these past twenty minutes and shifts off her knees, sitting down next to Coop though continuing to hold her upright should she fall. Marissa still seems mostly out of it, so Summer goes back to smoothing her fingers through her hair. Those are all the words Coop needs, anything more and she’ll be forced to act or break.

They must sit like that for another half-hour before Marissa starts to gain back some semblance of control. It’s not enough, not enough to get her up and out, but Summer will take whatever comes. She barely feels the cold from the water herself now, doesn’t care enough to reach up and shut it off. Her heart’s been picking up pace the longer she’s been sitting here, thinking about Ryan leaving and Seth taking off with all his stuff left behind, like he and Summer weren’t enough to convince him to stay, like they would _never_ be enough.

She feels hands on her face and she jerks, gaze shifting up to realize Marissa’s right in front of her. “God, Summer. I’m sorry. I don’t…,” she shakes her head in exasperation. “I can’t remember how I got here.”

Summer looks away, not able to witness the pain in Marissa’s eyes, a mirror reflection of her own. “Doesn’t matter.” It seems like Coop’s finally broken her too, and all she wants is to go back to feeling numb, staying busy and always moving and thinking about something else.

Marissa’s hands don’t leave her face. Her fingers trace over Summer’s lips and push Summer’s wet clumps of hair out of her face, and her damp lips brush against Summer’s until Summer’s mouth is opening to give her best friend’s fingers entrance and Marissa is pushing herself forward so fast there’s no warning and virtually no motion at all, mouth smashing purposefully against Summer’s own, the two dizzy with lack of oxygen yet not breaking away, two sets of fingers scrabbling at the tile until there’s blood underneath their fingernails. Marissa smooshes her down into the tile and crawls on top of her, one hand holding Summer’s neck and tilting her head up for better access and the other gripping Summer’s thigh, fingers fumbling with the button of Summer’s jeans.

Time is moving much too fast for Summer to do anything, not that she _wants_ to do anything.

They’ve fooled around before but they’ve never gone past the point of wanting so badly that each one could feel the other’s physical ache. Summer doesn’t want it to come out of this, _grief,_ but it’s already here and she’s hard-pressed to stop it.

Summer squirms. “Coop….” She pulls in a ragged breath, “Coop, I love you.”

Marissa pulls back, the smile not rushed or apologetic, _natural,_ and Summer realizes that this is no lie. It’s not lost on her that Marissa’s choosing her as an addiction over booze and pills, but it doesn’t mean Marissa doesn’t know what she’s doing either. This is the result of waiting so damn long. “I love you too, Summer.”

_This is_ _…._

“No words in your head either, Summer.”

 _Okay,_ and Summer’s fingernails trace along Coop’s collarbone.

The water’s still running.

**FIN**


End file.
